


A Mighty Pain And A Mighty Fury

by darkandstormyslash



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Bleeding, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, SPOILERS for season 5 episode 2, Violence, internal injuries, mentions of vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: No summary due to spoilers but heed the warnings.Written for the Peaky Emergency Response Challenge - one fic for each episode in season 5 as they come out! This is my episode 2 fic, so SPOILERS for the events of episode 2.





	A Mighty Pain And A Mighty Fury

The crack of a twig in the darkness is the only warning Johnny Dogs gets. One cracked twig, that only happens because Aberama is half blinded by anger and grief. The small, sharp sound means he’s already on his feet and turning as the hammer swings out of the darkness, turning enough to roll as it lands and keep it from ripping straight through his chest.

For a good few minutes, Johnny has no idea what’s happening. The hammer swings at him repeatedly, with a screaming howl of rage behind it, and Johnny is convinced, _that convinced_ it must be some vengeful forest spirit come to finally take him away. It doesn’t seem like it can be a man. The sounds coming out of it are _unholy_ and all Johnny can do is clutch his ribs and try to roll himself out of the way of each blow as it lands.

The hammer glances off his ribs a second time and Johnny sobs, spitting blood as he tries to twitch his body backwards and out of the way. He gets close enough to the fire to grab a branch, the other end of it flaming as he waves it desperately in front of him, and finally sees who it is.

“Aberama?”

Aberama gives another howl and swings the hammer again. It lands in the fire, scattering sparks and ash and Johnny desperately rolls himself over to put out any stray flames. The ground is hard and unforgiving against his broken body, and Aberama is still screaming. It’s a horrible noise, a deep broken inhuman wail.

“You told.” Aberama shrieks at the sky. He tries to pick up the hammer again, but it’s lost to the fire now. It’s only then, as Aberama hisses and swears at the heat from the flames, that Johnny notices Aberama is bleeding from the shoulder. His face is a mess of tears and blood and Johnny feels a sickness rise up in his stomach. “Nobody knew but you, and you _told_.”

“I didn’t – told what – Mister Gold…” Johnny tries desperately, as Aberama abandons the hammer and grabs the front of his shirt with one good hand. He wrenches upwards and Johnny stands in front of him, confused and swaying, as Aberama stares at him and just about manages to line up a punch that sends him tumbling down again.

“You never tell.” Aberama spits down at him, kicking out with a boot that thankfully misses his broken ribs, “You never tell where the camps are, and you told, and you’ll die.”

Johnny can’t move away, so instead he does the only thing he can do. Hauling himself upwards he throws his body in the general direction of Aberama. Gets in close, too close to hit, and wraps an arm around Aberama’s waist, bawling back at him. “I told nothing to nobody. Have you gone mad?”

With a scream that splits the sky Aberama’s forehead slams into his cheek and Johnny feels black spots rise up behind his vision. “Ask Tommy,” he manages to splutter out, “I never told a soul, please, just listen.” His hands grab the front of Aberama’s shirt, slick with blood and sweat, “Listen to yourself, man.”

“Tommy. Oh yes, we’ll be asking Tommy.” Aberama staggers forward and Johnny tumbles down again. “I’ll kill Tommy, and I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill every man that was ever at my campfire, and the man that took my boy, I’ll save him for last, and I’ll kill him slow.”

Johnny only half hears, because he’s down on the ground again and this time he _is_ sick, horribly and messily all over the damp earth. Aberama’s good hand latches into his shirt and drags him along the ground, until they reach the car parked precariously on the rise by the edge of the campfire.

The key is still in the car door. There’s no need for much security out here. Not when the only people who know where they are is each other, and they all trust each other never to tell.

Aberama opens the door and throws Johnny in. He lands on his bruised ribs and for a moment the world becomes a gasping dark centre of pain. Each breath rubs him raw inside. The car judders and moves around him while Johnny just concentrates on holding his body together. He doesn’t know how long the journey takes. Long enough to carry him through his own private form of hell, and to gain a more healthy appreciation for every man who went to war.

By the time they reach the outskirts of Tommy’s estate Johnny's managed to recover enough to move. The car weaves and waves it’s way down the gravel driveway and comes to a halt in a screech of breaks. Aberama gives a groan of pain and slumps forward over the steering wheel, breath panting and harsh.

Johnny’s hand fumbles with the door, his breath escaping in little sobs. He gets it open and flings himself out of it as quick as he can. Tommy, Tommy is there. Tommy needs to be told, needs to be warned, before Aberama gets out of the car and tries to kill him.

“Tommy!” His voice is only a gasp, he has no idea how loud it is, or whether it’s loud enough. “The man’s gone fucking mad, Tom!”


End file.
